A Mongrel
by Eestlane
Summary: His family was killed. He lost everything. Yet he has his own reasons to fight. How does his existence change the War of the Ring? you can call it AU. I suck at summaries
1. Prologue

_You like it or you don't.  
I am nor angry or sad if you don't and I am glad if you do cause I write this for my own pleasure.  
Enjoy! _**  
**

**

* * *

**

**Prologue**_  
"Lonely stranger"_

He was alone.

He could see a blood red sky. Sun was setting and darkness was covering the land once again.

He couldn't count the days anymore. He didn't know what time it was. What day or month it was. His food-store had ended almost week ago and two hours ago he had drunken a last drop of water.

Only his will kept him on his way. A way to nowhere.

He had no place to go in north. No home, no friends nor parents. They were all dead.

All he had was his brother's horse his armor and a bag. One wretched bag.

Yet, he didn't leave it. It was heavy and it was exhausting but he didn't let go of it.

It was important to him.

He was only 35 years old. A child if you would know who were his parents.

He was not a fair one. He was no elf. Nay, he didn't have that wonderful sparkle in his eyes. His hair was a shade of sand and messy. His eyes were blue and his skin was tanned. He was a child of the sun. Second born.

He denied rest and dreams to himself cause he knew that if he would lay down, he might never raise again. But a man is not almighty. As strong as he is, he will break sooner or later. Men will fall.

Soon after a sun was gone and stars began to shine he fell. He fell down and tried to rise but it was impossible. He grabbed dust. Long after he had lost his consciousness he still heard surrounding. He heard horses coming. No, one of them was a horse and others were ponies.

Slowly he began to hear two voices.

One, he thought for sure, belonged to an old man. Other one was harsher. It sounded like a dwarf. Help! He could get help!

Man opened his eyes slowly and shouted as loud as he could:" Help me!"

Then everything went black.


	2. Chapter 1: Awakening

**Chapter 1  
"Awakening"**

He felt warm sun rays caressing his face and a cold wind cooling him. He opened his eyes slowly and looked around.  
Everything was so white and full of light that he thought he was dead but as his eyes came used to the light he found himself in light room with a balcony.

He turned his eyes to left and right and didn't understand where he was.Last thing he remembered was falling before he passed out. Now he found himself in a place he had never seen before.  
He decided to stand up and found that weakness had left his body and he felt life running through his veins once again.  
He stepped onto floor and pulled back at first. Stone was cold under his feet.

He walked to the window and looked out.  
He saw trees and birds singing on them, a river and horses drinking of it. And there were…there were elves!

"What is this place?" he asked himself and backed away from the window.

"You are in Rivendell. Home place of elves and a sanctuary for people like you," he heard an old voice behind him.

He turned around and his hand went to his side by reflex.  
There was no need to grab a weapon though. In the corner of the room, there sat an old gray bearded man who was smoking a pipe.  
He calmed a bit as he saw that there was nothing to be afraid of.

"Rivendell? Home of Elrond the halfelven?" he spoke more to himself than to the stranger.

"Your memory does not deceive you, young one. But oh, where are my manners. I am Gandalf the Grey or as many call me, Mithrandir," old man rose from his seat and gave him a short nod.

He didn't answer and just stared at the man before him.

"And how might we call you? You do have a name, don't you?" Gandalf didn't seem to mind his impoliteness.

"I am called Turin, Son of Belegost the fast."

"Very well, Turin. Breakfast is about to be served. I'll leave you to dress now," old man said and walked out of the room leaving Turin with his thoughts.

* * *

Turin walked down the hallway.

He was dressed in black pants and white loose shirt. He had always liked to wear simple things.

He admired the craftwork and art that was seen in every wall and door he passed. As he was a little boy he used to cut out horses and ships out of wood. He used to play with them down the lake while his sister was picking mushrooms or berries.  
Those were times he remembered with happiness.  
But times pass and people change.

Two dwarves walked right ahead of him chuckling and talking. Turin caught words such as "adventure" and "treasure" but he didn't find it to be interesting at the moment.  
After all, it was the dwarves he had heard.

He decided to follow them though.

Soon he stepped into a large room with many windows. There were many tables around the room.

In one corner he saw familiar gray bearded friend and he made his way towards him.

As he got closer he saw that Mithrandir was not alone. There were 13 dwarves, including those two who he had followed, sitting there as well.  
Each one of them had a beer mug in hand and they all seemed to be in deep conversation.

"…Anyway, I told him we should have ordered pork but noooooo! Kili had to take something tasty and spicy.  
Bartender wanted to throw us out after Kili had emptied 2 barrels of beer after one plate of spicy deer meat," one of the dwarves spoke and others were chuckling.

"Good morning! I hope I don't interrupt you but may I sit here?" Turin asked.

Others looked up at him suspiciously. It was more than clear that dwarves didn't feel comfortable with him.

"This is Turin," Gandalf smiled and offered him a chair.

"You are the one we found on the road, aren't you? You had some pretty bad wounds. We thought you won't open your eyes at all," one of the dwarves said and took a sip of beer.

"You were the ones who saved me?" Turin asked.

"Well, actually it was Gandalf's doing but we helped to carry you," Turin received an answer and smiled.

"I must thank you. Without you I would have never seen such a beautiful place as this."

"Turin, these are Balin, Dwalin, Fili, Kili, Dori, Nori, Ori, Oin, Gloin, Bifur, Bofur, Bombur and Thorin Oakenshield. And of course Bilbo Baggins," Gandalf pointed to each one of them until he got to Bilbo who sat just next to Turin and seemed to feel very uncomfortable with that.

Turin himself was surprised to see such a creature as well.  
Mr. Baggins was no dwarf that was sure but he looked even smaller that a ten years old child.

"Its a pleasure to meet you," Turin spoke formally.

His new friends seemed to be pleased with that and they turned back to their own talks.

Turin took some beer and pork with potatoes and began to eat. He was hungry as a wolf.

Gandalf chuckled at that sight.

"You must not have eaten for a whole week. Where are you from Turin?" wizard asked.

"I was born in Rohan. I was a third child in the family. My father was a peasant until he became a warrior. I had an older sister and I had a brother," Turin began.

There was a pause cause he took another sip of beer.

"What happened to your family?" Gandalf asked quietly. He saw that this young man had suffered much pain in his life.

"They are dead!" he replied harshly.

"I'm sorry," Gandalf whispered.

"There is no need to be sorry. Everybody die once.  
Through the sword or by accident or when the time catches up with them. We all die, except elves who have not given this freedom.  
But let's not talk of things like these when there is so beautiful day outside," Turin tried to avoid the topic.

Gandalf didn't ask any more questions and turned to talk with Balin instead.

* * *

"He doesn't talk much. It seems something terrible has happened to him in past."

Elrond and Mithrandir walked in the gardens.

"He has taken after his mother in that point but by the looks he seems to be a pure blooded horse lord. Turin's mother was a dunédain," elf replied.

"Dunédain? My dear friend, sometimes I feel that you know a lot more than you have ever told me. Where do you know it?" Gandalf chuckled into his beard.

Elrond sighed and stopped.

"His mother was killed by orcs near Lorién. Poisoned arrow hit her and before she died she whispered his name.  
I heard it that day and I didn't understood who she meant but I believe that young man is the one she meant."

"That doesn't happen often that a man of Rohan would make a bond with édain. Usually rohirrims keep to themselves," Gandalf spoke.

"True. Son of Belegost has half of dunédain and a half of rohirrim blood inside him. That makes him live longer than other men. It's a shame that he will have to live at evil times.  
When you found him, an orc arrow had poisoned him. He has fought in battles and there is no doubt he is a warrior. I don't allow such men as him stay in Rivendell."

Gandalf gasped and a troubled look appeared to his face.

"Why, you can't just throw a poor man out like this. He needs some time to recover."

"Times are dangerous, Mithrandir. Orcs are massing in the mountains and east has become dangerous again. Gondor is watching but there are forces their great archers and knights can't stop.  
Enemy is keeping quiet in Dol Guldur but for how long? Strangers are not welcome here anymore.

I'll let him rest for a few days but then he has to leave," Elrond said sternly.

"So be it!"

_Crappy, I know but beginnings are mostly the boring ones anyway :p_


End file.
